


Odds and Ends

by hybryd0



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 07:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12008031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hybryd0/pseuds/hybryd0
Summary: Random ficlets the plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone about (and I didn't want to try to title)





	Odds and Ends

**Author's Note:**

> I like throwing my favorite players together regardless of team so there may be wackiness ahead. Ratings and such subject to change as chapters are added.

They’re in the middle of bumfuck knows where and it’s so blazing hot that Rusty is pretty sure his brain is being cooked like one of those eggs in the old “this is your brain on drugs” ads. He’s miserably sweaty and desperate for a cold bottle of water, but they’ve had to pool their funds just to fix their old as fuck busted ass van that’s broken down...again. Instead he and Shears are wandering around the town looking for a water fountain somewhere, anywhere that they can get a free drink.

“I think my shoes are actually melting, dude,” Shears complains as they stroll down the sidewalk, trying to stick to any shade possible.

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Rusty says, but he looks down anyway because it certainly feels like it could be hot enough.

“Maybe we should have stayed at that shop.”

“And listen to Tyler and Jamie argue about the setlist again? No thanks.”

Shears replies, but Rusty ignores him as a familiar sound twinkles in his ear. It’s a sound that is ingrained in every kid to produce maximum excitement and he flashes back to summer days like this one when he’d hear that sound and go running indoors with the hopes of getting a dollar or two from his mom. 

“Is that…?”

“Ice cream man!” Rusty shouts with delight. He twists around, trying to listen for where the telltale ding-ding is coming from.

“There!”

Rusty turns to where Shears is pointing and sure enough the ice cream truck is coming up the road behind them. He digs into his pocket and pulls out the last two quarters he has to his name and miraculously Shears does the same. They’ll have to share, but it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve shared food or drinks and it certainly won’t be the last.

They wave down the ice cream truck and the man pulls over for them, laughing a little at how excited they are. Rusty doesn’t even care, this man is like an angel straight from heaven right now bringing gifts of frozen treats to ease their suffering. The man could say their band blows and Rusty would probably still get down and kiss his toes.

They look at the menu, but there’s only two choices for a dollar; popsicle or an ice cream sandwich. Both would be good, but they decide the popsicle will be easier to share and honestly probably do more to cool them down.

“What flavors do you have for the popsicles?” Shears asks.

“Grape, fudge, or cherry.”

“Fudge.”

“Cherry.”

Rusty looks at Shears and frowns. “C’mon, fudge is definitely better than cherry.”

“Fudge will make me thirsty,” Shears whines.

“They’re both going to make us thirsty,” Rusty argues.

“Tell you boys what,” the ice cream man speaks up before they can really get going. “I’ll make you a deal seeing as how it’s hotter than hell’s asshole out here. Buy one, get one and I’ll throw in two bottles of water if you’ll help me out down the road here.”

They agree, because that’s a hell of a deal, and follow the ice cream man down the road to where they quickly learn that “here’ is an orphanage where a horde of little kids pour out. They’re all bright eyed and loud in their excitement as they mill about waiting with barely contained glee. Two ladies also come outside, standing back to keep watch.

The ice cream man, Dave, sends them around to take orders from the bouncing little boys and girls. Each one of them politely gives their order for a flavor of popsicle and hands over a penny. The crowd gets smaller as the kids get their treats and head off to pick different spots in the shade or go back inside. Once all of the kids are served the two ladies approach the truck.

“You’re a lifesaver, Dave,” one of the ladies says,a soft accent gently twisting her words.

“You have no idea how much this means to them,” the other lady adds.

“It’s my pleasure,” Dave replies with the same “aw schucks” type attitude that Jamie is so good at when anyone compliments his bass playing.

“And thank you boys for helping out,” the first lady says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

“We’re just passing through, ma’am,” Shears says.

“Our van broke down,” Rusty adds.

“Aw well, Michael’s the best grease monkey around, he’ll get ya back on the road in no time.”

They make small talk for a couple more minutes before the ladies have to go break up a squabble between two little boys. They collect their rewards from Dave and part ways to head back to the mechanic shop, slurping happily at their popsicles. When they get back to the shop Jamie and Tyler have apparently shelved their squabble about the setlist, but they’re sitting in the kind of silence that says neither of them are happy about it and Schmidty is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’d you get those?” Tyler demands, eyeing the mostly eaten and melted popsicle in Rusty’s hands.

“More importantly, can I have a sip of your water?” Jamie asks, much more politely. Shears gamely hands over his bottle while Rusty does the same for Tyler without prompting.

“Where’s Nate?”

“Here!”

Rusty winces a little, because Schmidty has never really learned when to use his inside voice, like when he’s inside. He’s suspiciously less sweaty than the rest of them.

“Where have you been?” Jamie asks.

Nate grins like the cat that ate the canary. “I talked a waitress at the diner down the road into letting me hang out in their freezer for a bit.”

“How do we get in on that deal?” Shears asks eagerly.

“Well,” Nate says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face. “I kinda got caught by the manager and tossed out.”

“Duuude.”

“I know, it was a pretty sweet gig.”

They sit around for another hour, sharing the two bottles of water, until the repairs on the van are done. Then they’re back on the road headed towards their next destination with only a hope and a prayer that they’ll get there in time for their slot. Still, Rusty doesn’t think he’ll forget the unbridled joy on those kids’ faces when he and Shears handed out those popsicles. It’s just one of the many memories of this crazy journey he plans on storing away for when he’s old and gray and can’t pick up a guitar anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> come say [hi on tumblr](https://hockeyshippinfool.tumblr.com) and feel free to throw me some prompts :)


End file.
